Any Given Psycho
by Writer432
Summary: Annabeth Chase, a journalist making her debut, goes undercover at a mental asylum in 1887 to discover how the mentally ill are being treated. When she does she is horrified, but that's nothing compared to what she is about to witness. Trigger Warning for abuse. Happy Birthday CNRBRR!


**This one is dedicated to my lovely friend CNRBRR because it was his birthday recently. He's old now, so I was thinking about getting him a cane for his birthday, thoughts? Anyway, happy belated birthday, Conor!  
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><p>Since we are going to be spending a lot of time together I thought it might be best to let you know that almost all of my observations center around sarcasm. I've been called rude for it, but when you're stuck in a mental asylum with only your thoughts and the insane you stop caring what others think.<p>

Let me assure you, I am not insane, just curious. My name is Annabeth Chase, a journalist given an impossible task and trying to make it possible. I have been sentenced to this mental asylum, posing as an unstable immigrant. Really, it isn't as easy as you would think, acting insane. It's draining, and the asylum isn't a nurturing environment.

I've seen the insane shocked, beaten, strangled, and I've only been here five days! I can't imagine how I'll last five more without winding up a shell of a person. Magic would be the only likely answer I have, which is impossible since there is no such thing as magic.

I wrap the dirty cloth that hangs off my body between my fingers, already having lost feeling in my waist and below. The straight bench they tied me to is no more comfortable then it was the last five days I was stuck here, and the boredom no less present. The nurses here, if you can call them that, have ordered us to be silent, and they made an example of a dull green eyed redhead who was muttering to herself with her grungy hair covering her eyes. It wasn't until two days later I discovered her name had been Rachel.

There are six of us left in the room, after Rachel was taken away. A small girl with eyes like broken glass shivers next to me, her hair hanging in strings around her head. She is all sin and bones, and doesn't look a day over 19. How she got here, I don't know and I honestly hope to never find out. Mental soundness is a fragile thing and how hers cracked doesn't interest me at all. If anything it makes me want to hurl up the rotten piece of beef they fed us this morning.

To my right sits a girl with confidence still holding her head high, no doubt that it won't last another day, she took Rachel's spot next to me yesterday. Her hair still has not been reduced to greasy strips and her gaze seems to hold no sign that she is insane. Her toe taps ceaselessly while she hums so softly I can barely hear it. So maybe I was wrong, maybe not all sighs of insanity can be seen through the eyes.

Across from us sits three other girls, all gazing intently at the ground. They have been here since I've arrived, and I have a feeling long before that too. A sound has never escaped their lips in my presence, neither have they ever glanced up from the floor. The nurses just sneer at them every time they are sent to untie us and drag us to the dining room which doubles as a restroom for those who can no longer find a way to signal they need to see a toilet.

The snug rope strapping me to the frigid wooden bench rubs my skin raw, the blisters from previous days being scraped open and small amounts of blood dripping down my arms, wrists, and ankles. I shift uncomfortably, grimacing as the movement only makes the pain worse.

"If you hold still, it doesn't hurt so much." The girl to my right says, so quiet I must have imagined it.

"What?" I whisper back, squinting at her. The room they leave us in has an inconsistent amount of light in it, in seconds it can go from sterile white to low candle light. At the moment it's too bright for the eyes to adjust properly.

The girl shook her head curtly, her gaze cutting into mine. Not second later did a nurse come bustling in, strutting straight up to the girl and punching her across the jaw, hissing at her to keep her mouth shut.

The girl groaned, tipping her head back to avoid further punishment. This only seems to cause the nurse to be even angrier, giving her incentive to give a solid slug to the gut. The girl doubles over, hissing in pain between clenched teeth. They are yellow with rot and her breath smells of an animal carcass. Wicked laughter ensues from the nurse as she observes her victims pain.

"Remember to keep silent next time, or I won't go easy. You haven't visited the chair in three whole hours, your record. Congratulations" The threat is not lost on the disgustingly brave girl, but she shows no sign of fear.

"Thanks, maybe then I won't be able to smell the rot of your soul." She snarls, a laugh gurgling in her throat.

The nurse snatches at a clump of hair, yanking up until tears stream down the girls face.

"Don't _ever _speak to your superiors like that. You're an animal in a humans body, not worthy of your human name. _Piper, _what kind of name is that?_" _The nurse spat at her feet.

"It's _my_ name." The girl- Piper- sat up straighter, wheezing slightly from getting the wind knocked out of her before.

"You don't deserve a name, you're an animal. You're insane!" The nurse slaps her square across the face, and blood pools at the corner of Piper's mouth.

"I'm just as sane as you are!" Piper screeches, spitting blood onto the nurses face. She cackles, her hidden madness

In three seconds flat Piper is slumped against the bench, dead. The nurse had twisted her neck, her eyes crazed.

"She attacked me. It was self defense." The nurse catches my startled gaze and stiffens, hurling excuses my way. I say nothing, like I've been instructed to.

The nurse's hands twitch and she begins to untie Piper.

"It was self defense. It was self defense." She mutters over and over, her guilty conscious morphing her into something akin to the insane girl she just killed. Irony at it's finest.

Eventually the mad nurse drags Piper's body away, leaving the worn ropes behind which are stained with who knows how many people's blood.

"I'm not an animal." The girl to my left breathes, her broken gaze catching mine and holding me in place.

"No, you're not. Nor am I." I reply just as softly. She nods, satisfied, and turns her gaze back down.

I settle back into the familiar pattern of listening to the sound of too loud silence, set on changing the way things are done here.

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><p><strong>This strange piece was inspired by the story of Nelie Bly, a journalist who went undercover at an insane asylum to learn how the patients were being treated. Her story is quite facinating, and I recommend you look into it! If you do you will find the way I portrayed the nurses responsible for caring for the patients was accurate for what she reports her experience was. Well, for the most part, I do have a certain liking for dramatics. Also, this took place in the 1887, the same year as Nellie Bly went undercover. <strong>

**So yeah, Happy Birthday you dork! Hope this year is filled with as much deep fried pizza as you can handle!**

**Thanks for reading!**

**-Writer432**


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